


walking the high line

by lostalongtthewayy



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, CS AU, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Happy Birthday Emma, High Line, New York, ice cream date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostalongtthewayy/pseuds/lostalongtthewayy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Swan NYC neighbors AU – It’s Emma Swan’s 28th birthday and she finds herself stuck helping her upstairs neighbor —the very one she’s sure she hates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walking the high line

**Author's Note:**

> It's actually my B-Day today so I was having lots and lots of Birthday feelings yesterday when I wrote this ---plus NYC feels since I spent my birthday there last year, so yeah, this came out of my nostalgia! hope you guys like it! :)

Killian Jones was many many things, he was intolerable, obnoxious, and with a mean streak of cynicism and arrogance. Emma had known him for a little over two years when he moved to the apartment above hers. She had the worst luck in history because at least eight out of ten times, she would run into him when she was leaving her building ( _our schedules are compatible, love –he would gloat in his stupid sexy accent)_. He was insufferable. Always flirting and mocking her with his stupidly perfect face and daunting blue eyes.

But it was all a game for him —he saw her as a challenge ( _his words!_ ), one more name to add to his probable outstandingly long list of conquests. Now Emma had no time to play his games or anyone’s games to be honest. He was damn attractive, you’d have to be blind to deny this, but she was beyond his flirty games and ever ending stream of innuendo.

Thank you, but no thank you.

A _nd yet…_

Yet, today when he called asking for her help, Emma hadn’t needed much thought before agreeing to do it.

It was a mild October Sunday in New York City, their apartment building was just a little ways from the High Line and Emma had agreed to meet him there just off the 18thstreet access stairs. He’d been held back at work, something about a so-called crisis that was probably just code for his need to have some drinks with his  _mates_ after Sunday’s show. Regardless of whether he was honest or not about the reason, someone had needed to walk  _Salinger_ , and it just so happened Emma had been the lucky winner.

Salinger was an innocent party though —he was the most adorable four-year-old Golden Retriever Emma had ever met. He was the cuddliest, happiest thing and it was in no way his fault he had such an insufferable owner.

Alas, he did have it.

Once Killian  _finally_ met them a little past six o’clock that evening, Emma had a scowl set on her face when she handed him Sal’s leash.

Killian was scratching his ear, sheepishly looking at her as though he was actually a little sorry for interrupting her Sunday just so his puppy wouldn’t destroy his entire apartment.

“I guess I should thank you, Swan.”

Emma looked at him, frown in place and features hard. “No need,” she answered flatly. She did just about to turn around and walk away before Killian stopped her.

“Wait!” He said, startling not only Emma but also Salinger slightly too. The puppy whined looking up at him at the same time as Emma turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Listen lass, I know we don’t exactly get along, but let me repay you —you saved my life today,” he said, already pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Oh for Lord’s sake!” Emma groaned, irritated. “Put that back, just put that back!” She barked at him. “I am  _not_  taking your money, are you crazy?”

Killian shrugged at her outburst —truth was, maybe he was a little. Emma Swan wasn’t particularly hard to read, but after so many encounters, and so many times seemingly _always_ doing the wrong thing around her, Killian truly didn’t know anymore. He let out a breath, scratching at the back of his neck now. “All right then, let me do something else to thank you instead,” he said knowing one way or another he had to show her he appreciated her help today. Killian started looking around, they were standing on the street, a few families walking by them; he watched a family of five in particular for all of ten seconds before getting an idea. He smiled, turning back to glance at Emma. Not surprisingly, she was still scowling at him. Killian’s smile didn’t waver though. “How about you let me get you some gelato? Is the least I can do, aye?”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” Emma insisted, her head shaking stubbornly. “I should just—“

But before she could make up an excuse to leave, Killian used a hand to grab her elbow; he was smiling playfully when Emma looked his way. “Please?” He tried. “I’m a bloody jerk, I _know_ , but I’m a jerk that can appreciate someone doing me a favor. Let me just do something for you? We are even after that, Swan…”

Oh how great, he just didn’t want to  _owe her_  anything. “Fine, whatever,” she rolled her eyes, starting to march up the stairs back to the High Line.

Salinger, darling little pup he was, started on walking behind Emma immediately. He was in such a rush to catch up with her, pulling Killian with him in the direction of that angry blonde beauty.

Oh yes, because Emma Swan may hate his guts with all her being, but she was a beauty —more than that, she was the most stunning woman Killian had ever had the pleasure to annoy to death. It really was too bad she hated him so much.

The walk to the 14th Street passage was a short one —also a rather quiet one. Emma walked mostly ahead of him, picking up her pace every time he tried to catch up with her to walk side by side. She was avoiding his very presence, wanted to just get this over with as quickly as possible, but Killian knew better. 

She was afraid.

If he didn’t know better ( _and he did, he’d had about two years to learn to read Emma Swan)_  he’d think she was also trying so hard not to cry.

He couldn’t exactly guess the reason of that though.

In any case, determined to break through her walls, Killian didn’t let his grin fall as he got them both medium containers of chocolate with rum gelato then. He’d asked her for her favorite flavor, but Emma had just waved a hand at him, grabbing Sal from him, and mumbling whatever flavor was fine.

_Ah, she was a tough lass to get through this one. Good thing he wasn’t in the habit of giving up._

Right now, he simply hoped chocolate and rum would be a hit with her —it sure was his favorite flavor every time he was here in the High Line.

They started walking back toward the 18th street stairs then. Killian handed Emma her gelato, and she thanked him quietly enough.

They were just nearing the 10th avenue square when Killian again went to grab her elbow, and gestured her toward the amphitheater steps. “You wish to sit while we eat?”

Emma stared at him, mostly annoyed, but Killian could also see the uncertainty in her features. It intrigued him so much just why she was this way —why trusting was such a hard thing for her to do.

In the end, she nodded, barely, but did it, and with his puppy trailing behind her as if her pockets were full of bacon, Killian followed after her too.

They sat near the back, overlooking 10th avenue and the sea of tourists taking pictures of themselves and the view.

Killian breathed deeply, sitting back and relaxing for a bit. Emma was eating in silence, tiny half spoons of gelato making its way to her mouth every once in a while. She was lost in thought, watching everyone with curiosity.

Killian tilted his head, eyebrows raised as he watched Salinger oh, so comfortable snoozing away with his furry head on Emma’s lap.

It made him chuckle, almost bitterly but not quite —mostly just with frustration toward Emma and jealousy toward his dog — _yes, definitely jealousy._.. Here was his dog, completely in love with Emma,  _so_ close to her, receiving her affections even, while Killian on the other hand was lucky if she didn’t glare at him when their eyes ever met.

_Bloody hell._

“Most men would take your silence as off-putting, love.”

Emma rolled her eyes as if on cue at his words, and he smirked —she seemingly hated it so much when he called her  _love._ It got to her, and he enjoyed it. “I’m not even joking, love,” he added, and at that Emma turned to him glaring.

“ _Most men,” s_ he stressed pointedly. “Would take the hint.”

“Ah, right, your never ending ire toward me should just compel me to stop taking, eh?”

“God yes.”

Killian lifted his index finger and waved it in front of Emma. “Why, why, Emma, you forget I know better, love.”

Again with the annoying moniker, if she weren’t as level headed as she was trying to be, she would have punched him on the face the second he said it the first time today. She really had no mind for his jokes today. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious about what stupidity he was going to say. “Yeah? How’s that?”

“Ah,” Killian let out, shrugging. “You’re just afraid, love. Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself, to trust me. Things will be a lot smoother if you do.”

“I think I’d rather pass, thank you.”

Killian watched her for a beat then, her serious demeanor not scaring him off one bit. “Well, I don’t need you to share. You’re something of an open book.”

She looked at him frowning at those words. “Am I?”

“Quite,” Killian replied without thought. He smirked at her, devilishly in that way she hated. He scooped a spoonful of creamy gelato then and with Emma watching him, he put it all at once in his mouth, smiling at the sweet burst of alcohol in his taste buds.

Emma rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him in irritation.

Killian shrugged, deciding he could more than roll with that ire of hers. “For one thing, you are an orphan.”

Emma had to force herself not to react —not in the way he wanted her anyway. She shrugged instead. “I know this, thank you.”

Shaking his head at her, Killian shifted on the wooden step, turning to face her properly. “I’ve known you for a few years now, Swan, this is the first time I can tell you are lonely.”

“I’ve always been more of a loner.” Emma wasn’t even sure why she replied, the words just spilled out of her. “I’m used to that. It’s just what it is.”

He nodded at her answer, for the first time, probably  _ever_ , looking at her devoid of all mockery. “Love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it?” He asked, his eyes zeroed on hers. “It didn’t use to bother you so much —not having it? That has changed now. Am I right love?”

Emma couldn’t form an answer, at that moment she could barely just look at his eyes and force herself to breath.

“I gather you know the difference —between loneliness and being alone. You are lonely, Swan…You didn’t use to be,” he stated, sadly.

Emma swallowed hard, shaking her head at him and trying for a smile for some reason. It didn’t exactly form but it was the best she could muster in that moment. “It doesn’t bother me,” she said, but it was a lie. The way his eyebrows shot up proof that he knew it was a lie too. She smiled again then, this time at the face he was giving her, and it worked a little better. “Most of the times anyway,” she added, making Killian gloat —damn him and his never-ending ego. “Today…”

“It was different?”

“Yes,” Emma answered, setting down the forgotten gelato that continued to melt on the small container. She made herself take a deep breath before glancing back up to his eyes. “Today’s my birthday.”

“Pardon me?” His eyes went wide at her words —he heard her all right.

Emma shrugged —she had no idea what got into her, but suddenly it was as if she couldn’t stop herself from just  _talking to him._ He’d been right about her, about everything he said. She  _was lonely –_ and while she didn’t lie when she said it didn’t bother her usually, this year,  _today_ of all days, it  _did_ bother her, and she wouldn’t be mad if she didn’t  _have_ to be alone. “When you called me earlier about Sal, I hadn’t spoken to a single person today before that. It’s my birthday and the only actual conversation I had was with my upstairs neighbor,  _who hates me_ , begging me to save his ass.”

“What makes you think I hate you love?”

Emma laughed —a far from humorous laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “That’s what you gathered from my words?”

Killian didn’t answer, simply shrugged slightly. He didn’t know what to make of her words, she was proving him right, but…he didn’t want to be right. Not anymore. Not about  _this._ A woman like Emma Swan shouldn’t have to feel like this —she should be cherished, loved,  _wanted_. How could Killian tell her any of it when she thought he hated her though?

“You are probably ready to run now, huh?”

Killian looked at her stoically, not shifting for all of a beat before simply shaking his head. He  _could_  very well handle this.

 _All right then,_ Emma thought letting out a dry chuckle. “I haven’t had a birthday fall on a Sunday since I can remember. It’s different when I’m working all day and don’t have to think about it…”

“What did you do today?” Emma had always been shy of a mystery to him —the fact that she was actually talking to him more puzzling than anything, but at the same time Killian couldn’t stop to question it —he wanted to know more. He felt as though he almost  _needed_ to know more.

“I tried to keep busy —tried to forget about it.”

“Let me guess, it didn’t quite work?”

She let out a long-suffering breath and then shook her head. “Something like that,” she said, looking down and smiling at Salinger on her lap. Emma patted the puppy’s head for a little while before looking back up at Killian. “I went to see a show, this little off Broadway play, you would have liked it,” she said, and this time when she smiled, it was almost a genuine one.

Killian smiled back, sincerely too, no pretense allowed right now.

“I handed my ticket, found my seat, sat and watched. Laughed a lot even —it was actually pretty good, but then it finished obviously,” she recalled, shrugging. “I walked for a long time after that. It was still early.  _So_  early and I didn’t want to go back home yet, so I grabbed some food to go, more than a single portion of course. Part of me wanted the waiter to think I wasn’t just buying food for myself so I got a bunch of everything. It’s probably gonna go bad in my fridge, but I don’t care, I just didn’t want him to know I was alone…”

It hit him suddenly, how alike they were, how  _lost_  she was — _like him_.

“I took myself to see a movie after that. I picked a sad one.”

“Did  _the movie_  make you cry?”

“Nope.” It hadn’t been  _that_ sad sadly.

“Did you cry anyway, love?”

Emma opened her mouth to lie, but then decided against it a second later. “I did.” Her tears had had nothing to do with the movie’s storyline —it had all come down to today, to what her life had turned out to be. “It wasn’t even five o’clock by the time I was done. We live in New York City Killian. I watched a movie in a packed theater just east of fucking Times Square…but I…I’ve never felt more alone in my whole life…”

Killian looked away, exhaling deeply. Oh he wanted to tell her he knew —he  _bloody knew_ the feeling. But at the same time, what would stop her from thinking he was only just saying anything in hopes to  _bond_ and perhaps get in her pants? Now that wasn’t him of course —in the slightest, but he feared that was the man Emma had thought he was all this time.

“I walked for a while longer, but then I got tired of course,” she continued talking, actually feeling lighter with every word she spoke. “I ended up sitting on a bench at that little outdoors market on the corner of 46th and 8th ave.”

Killian’s eyes widened at those last words, and he turned to her immediately.  ** _He_** _works at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre which just so happens to be just by to that bloody market. **Emma knows this**!_

 _“_ I was just sitting there trying like hell not to cry when  _you_  called. I didn’t want to answer at first.”

“Why  _did_  you answer?” ( _Hello, she hated him, remember?_ )

In any case, Emma flippantly shrugged at his question. “I told you, I spent the whole day surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of strangers —barely speaking a word to anyone. You could say I was in  _dare need of some kind of interaction_ , Killian,” she tried faking his accent, and honestly, in any other circumstance Killian would have found that adorable.

Right now, it was just  _sad. “_ You said you were home when we spoke.” That was why he even dared asking her to check on Salinger.

Emma’s lips shifted into a thin line, and she avoided his eyes. “You didn’t even say  _hello_ when I picked up the phone. The first words out of your mouth were;  _are you home, Swan?_  —Honestly, I was afraid you’d hang up as soon as I said I wasn’t.”

 _Bloody hell “_ Emma,” Killian started then, but she waved him off, a forced smile on her face.

“I,” she sighed, looking away from him, her head shaking ever so slightly. “I don’t especially need your pity now,” she said stubbornly. “If I just said all this, I —I don’t—“

“I know what it feels like,” Killian spoke then, cutting her off, not even a wee bit sorry about it. “To lose hope,” he added, the words thick and unfamiliar in his mouth. It suddenly crossed his mind that this wasn’t a conversation they should just be having in the middle of a New York City tourist spot amongst hundreds of strangers, but at the same time, there was not a chance in hell he was wasting this opportunity with her.

“That’s what you think my problem is?”

He rubbed his eye, scratched his ear, and looked everywhere but not her eyes before replying. “Indeed.”

“Killian.”

He looked at her, pulled by the invisible magnet her voice saying  _his name_ was to him. “Aye.”

“I’m want to tell you something.”

Killian scooted closer to her, not thinking, and nodded encouraging her to speak.

Emma couldn’t make herself speak right away, it wasn’t easy to  _trust him_ —in the slightest, but she wanted to so badly.

“Tell me what?” He nudged her slightly, smiling.

Surprising him, Emma matched his smile. It faded soon enough though; she tilted her head gesturing him to a family sitting a few rows in front of them.

Two lasses, of about 4 or 5 years old were skipping up and down the steps, giggling freely while their parents watched them. Killian smiled, instinctively, before shifting his eyes back to Emma’s —she wasn’t looking at the family anymore.

She licked her upper lip slightly before speaking, “I gave up a baby once,” she finally told him. “I put him up for adoption about ten years ago.”

Killian closed his eyes softly for a few seconds, he  _did_ get it —not just the feelings of regret, but what it was like to live every day with the  _what ifs_ running wildly in her head. “You think your life would be different if you hadn’t, love?”

“I don’t think so, I know it,” Emma replied without having to think about it. “I don’t know if it’d be a better life, or a worst one, but at the very least we would be  _together,_ you know?”

“Aye,” Killian replied simply. “Do you know anything about the babe?”

“He was a boy,” Emma couldn’t help the smile that made it to her lips —she might have refused to see her baby once upon a time, but she remembered his squeaky whimpers after he was born and the fact that he was a baby boy — _her_ baby boy. “It was a closed adoption, so it’s not like I can look him up or anything.”

“I thought that was your job, Swan.”

“It is,” she agreed. “The irony, huh?”

“Aye.”

They shared a small look then, a look of almost understanding before Emma reached to her side and picked up her gelato. She ate some of it quietly, before turning to Killian —a shy smile on her face. “I never knew rum in my ice cream could taste  _so good_ ,” she gushed, and although he tried, Killian couldn’t help the full on grin that made it to his face.

“First of all, Swan,” he started. “Gelato and ice cream are two  _very very_ different things, so know that,” he grinned fully again when she chuckled lowly. “Second, rum can very well be the answer to everything —just so you are aware, love.”

Emma chuckled again, not really taking him seriously for once. She ate the rest of her almost melted  _gelato_ then, before sighing happily and setting down the empty container. She waited a few seconds before shifting to meet Killian’s eyes once more. “Who’s Milah on the tattoo?”

Her question caught Killian off guard; he frowned, subconsciously hiding his arm from view. He shook his head slightly. “Someone from long ago.”

Emma gulped, not completely regretting asking the question, but feeling slightly mortified nonetheless. “Where is she?” It was obvious this wasn’t something he liked talking about, but she’d seen his tattoo many times, and always  _wondered._

In the end, Killian just shook his head again, avoiding her eyes. “She’s gone.”

Emma bit her lip, watching his profile as he looked about the people around them. “When you said you knew what it was like —to lose hope, you meant her, because you lost  _her,_  right? _”_

Killian shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. “Perhaps.”

Emma exhaled deeply, her eyes shifting to Salinger. “At least you have Sal,” she said then, petting sweetly the pup. “He’s not bad company, eh?”

Killian turned to her immediately, mostly because that sounded like teasing to him. And then he  _looked_ at her, and she was smirking.  _Smirking_. God, this woman. “Not bad at all, Swan,” he replied anyway.

“Maybe I should get myself a pet,” she said then lightly, smile goofy as she patted Sal’s head. “Maybe a cat, do you think I can fit the crazy cat lady stereotype?”

Killian couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that one. “You are allergic,” he said without thought, and Emma narrowed her eyes almost immediately. She might have mentioned her cat allergy  _once —_ around the time he moved in and was teasing  _her a_ bout probably having a bunch of cats in her apartment. 

“I am,” she grumbled back anyway. “But you could have at least humored me, jeez.” 

She was being playful, letting him off the hook just this once, and Killian actually appreciated that. He smiled back at her before deciding to just change the subject all together. “You wanna head home now?” It was getting chillier, and it had started to darken after all.

Emma looked uncertain at that though, as if Killian had just reminded her of everything she didn’t want to face.

“Sure,” Emma said anyway.

He smiled at her, bumping his shoulder against hers gently. “Can we make a stop by the food empire or whole foods or something?” Whatever that was still opened Sunday evening, he didn’t care.

Emma looked at him frowning, but nodded anyway.

“I want to get something,” Killian said then as he stood up from the step. He stretched his limbs for a few seconds, before offering Emma a helping hand.

She looked at him suspiciously. “Now you’re gonna be a gentleman?”

“Please,” Killian rolled his eyes dramatically. “I am  _always_ a gentleman,” he reminded her as Emma  _did_  take his hand, and he helped her to her feet. He grinned when their eyes met and they stood side by side —at last. “Thanks for helping me with Sal today, Swan.”

She returned the smile shyly. “No problem.”

And with that, the two of them plus Salinger started on their way home. They did stop by the Food Empire; Emma stayed outside with Sal as Killian went in and got whatever the hell he needed to buy. She was starting to shiver from the cold wind that was picking up when he returned. She wanted to laugh at the size of the grin he was wearing. “What? What did you get?”

“It’s for you,” Killian said as they started walking again.

Emma looked his way confused, her eyes scanning the plastic bag he was holding. “What?”

“It’s a cupcake.” He said then, eyes sparkling and smile full. “And some candles. I figured it’s your birthday Swan, you should at least blow out some candles and make a wish.”

That was so awfully sweet. So  _not_ him. Or at least not the version of him Emma had made herself believe he was all this time.

“Thank you, Killian.”

He shook his head, almost dismissively. “It’s nothing,” he said and that was that.

They continued their walk, and less than five minutes later they were finally in the lobby of their building. Emma walked in the elevator first, and just as she was about to press her floor number, she hesitated. “Uh,” Emma uttered nervously. She turned to Killian who was watching her back slightly confused. “You’re coming with, right?”

And at that question, he laughed —full on laughed, and it hit her how she’d never heard him laugh like that before. It was quite the sound. She smiled, relaxing immediately as she pressed  _her_ floor number and stopped being silly.

“Can we clear up something?”

“Um, sure.” Now it was Emma’s turn to be confused.

Killian smiled. “I don’t hate you, all right? Never had, Swan. I promise.”

“Oh,” she let out, briefly shifting her gaze from him and instead watching the numbers change on the elevator screen display. “Well,” she said then. “I don’t hate you either.”

“Ah,” Killian let out goofily. “Music to my ears,” he joked, although he truly quite meant it. “I actually quite fancy you, Swan.”

She looked at him incredulously at that last part.  _Yeah, right! He was a fucking Adonis, and she was, well, Emma, just Emma._

Her look didn’t stop him for elaborating though. “When you are not glaring at me, that is,” he added, and Emma simply shook her head.

Before she could say anything back though, the elevator was dinging and its doors were opening on her floor.

They walked out together, with Salinger trailing behind them.

Emma was the first one to notice someone standing outside her door. She frowned immediately, and without words handed Killian Sal’s leash as they approached her door. It was a kid standing there, dark coat, stripy scarf and a backpack.

_What the hell?_

“Uh…can I help you?” Emma asked. Killian stood behind her, looking over her head at the small lad as he turned to Emma. He had never seen him, he didn’t think, but the lad still looked remarkably  _familiar._

“Are you Emma Swan?”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“My name’s Henry. I’m your son.”

 


End file.
